These days, my feelings seem amplified. Everything I feel, has a distinct trough or crest to it. If I’m sad, I’m blue like the girl who dropped her lollipop. If I’m glad, I’m like the falcon in the air with the wind underneath its wings. If I’m angry, I’m the wild stallion you can’t get a hold on. If I’m lonely, I’m like the ugly duckling who never felt like she belonged. That’s how I am these days, and it’s rather overwhelming because the pitcher of my heart can then be occupied with just one feeling at a time. I have to empty it and refill it if I need to feel something else.
I like being alone. Sometimes, not always. It fills me with fluidity and reassurance. At times, when I am by myself, I feel liberated. It gives me a strong sense of decadence for myself. And I realise, I love myself; because when no one is around I am there for me. I enjoy spending time with me. It’s almost a pretty picture—me and myself alone together. A picture that was painted long before I was even born. A picture that will be the same even after I’m descended six feet under. A picture that is reflected on either side; and painted in monochrome. It’s alone and it could be lonely; only it isn’t. And given my state of amplified emotional arrest now, I feel alone; wholly. Insofar as I could go half way around the world and not need anyone by my side. I could read a book beneath a tree and not see why I should share it with anyone. I could walk into a busy street and not feel lost. I could watch a movie by myself and not care that I’m not sharing the pop corn with anyone. I could stay in my “own” house and not see the need to give anyone an address or a space to share. I could sleep alone and not get scared of ghosts that may lie at the foot of my bed. In short, I’m overflowing with this solitary feeling that I have inside me. I’m not begrudged that I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m not unhappy that I don’t want to share the pressing matters of the mind with anyone. I don’t feel that the silence around me is incomplete; that I should share it with someone.
I do come around from this state sooner or later. I do part with this picture in due course of time. Hoping that this time it’s sooner than later. I know a new picture is waiting to be made…
I feel the same too but i didn’t realise it till you actually put them down in print.
Well, I guess that happens to all of us. We know everything, we just need someone to tell us explicitly.
They say that life is just YOUR journey, and can never be collective. The painting which you have has the answer.